


a glimpse of light in a mine of gold

by beingxwest



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Avengers Family, Background Relationships, Bucky Barnes & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Bucky Barnes and the 21st Century, Bucky Barnes kind of remembers?, Declarations Of Love, Everyone Is Alive, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, Fix-It, Good Life Choices, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Irondad, M/M, Minor Carol Danvers/Maria Rambeau, Mutual Pining, Natasha has good ideas, New Asgard, New Asgard party, Nobody is Dead, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, One Big Happy Family, POV Bucky Barnes, POV Multiple, POV Natasha Romanov, POV Sam Wilson, POV Steve Rogers, Pepper and Sam make good decisions, Pepper is very concerned though, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Endgame, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson is a Gift and this world does not deserve him, Sam Wilson is a Saint, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Stucky - Freeform, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Avengers Are Good Bros, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Thor Odinson/ Brunhilde (Implied), Thor is still king when this happens, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Why Did I Write This?, background Clintasha, because I said so, dances are had, everyone thinks they're in love, he cares a little but not that much, it's more like "there's world-building everywhere", it's none of Sam's business but he does not care, meddling avengers, okay there's more world-building than that, steve and bucky deserve to be happy, that's their super power y'all, there are four different POVs in this how did this happen, there are so many tags omg, there's a happy ending in there somewhere, this is an absolutely wild plot and I am so sorry, world-building if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-09-28 22:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20433224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beingxwest/pseuds/beingxwest
Summary: The Avengers are good at saving the world. Mending broken hearts is the newest addition to the long list of things they’ve tried to pull off as a team. It’s a night of celebration for everyone involved, so of course this is the right thing to do. Pepper and Sam just hope it works out okay in the end. // OR The Avengers have a hypothesis as to why Steve’s been so miserable since they defeated Thanos, and you can bet your biscuits that they’re going to try and do something about it. It’s the night of the gala celebrating New Asgard’s completion, and you’d think that means they’ve got enough going on as it is, but it seems like as good a time as any to cheer Steve up. Sam’s just hoping that Bucky’s the answer to the problem. (At this point, if they’re wrong, it would be really, really awkward, wouldn’t it?) // OR Bucky finally gets his dance. // (title from “Joy” by Sleeping At Last)





	a glimpse of light in a mine of gold

**Author's Note:**

> This is a big AU in several ways, not limited to but including: Thor is still king when this happens, Loki got brought back at some point between the Avengers getting back together and the big battle, and he and Thor are good brothers; Clint found a way to bring Natasha back, and the two of them got together after Clint and his wife split up after the final battle; and, most importantly, Steve and Bucky haven't seen each other since Bucky left Steve on the bank of the river after the helicarrier battle in Captain America: The Winter Soldier. I hope you enjoy this! Tell me what you think in the comments!

New Asgard is going to be a harmonious and well-cared for nation, if this ball has anything to say about it.

Around Steve, the party celebrating New Asgard's completion is already in full swing. There are at least two full bars, one against each side of the newly finished palace's ballroom, with the exception of the side with Thor's throne and the side with the double doors that lead back to the corridor outside. An old-fashioned announcer stands at one side of the doors, checking invitations for a final time and calling out the names of fashionably late attendees. The man is dressed to the nines in what Steve recognizes as Asgardian armor. It's similar to what Thor himself wears, though Thor's attire now involves a blood red cape and a crown. Steve can't quite see past the people being announced as they enter the ballroom but there's a fancy staircase between the corridor and the chamber the gala is being held in itself for security purposes, and when Steve got here an hour or so ago, the line to get into the ball was starting to go even past the foot of the stairs.

Pepper's words echo in his mind: "Anyone who is anyone has been invited to the celebration. That includes the Avengers and Co. and a host of CEOs who donated money, those who assisted with getting the land for New Asgard, and anyone else Thor or his people requested be on the guest list." When Pepper had given the team this run-down of who all would be in attendance, she was careful to explain that an invitee had yet to RSVP no, and the deadline was that evening. Now, looking around the ballroom - which should be next to impossible to crowd, given the sheer size of the chamber - Steve can see why Pepper had point-blank refused to tell them how many people RSVPed that they would be present.

The place is packed.

There are tables to one side of the ballroom. When the party started, the tables covered their half of the chamber and most of the dance floor. Now that most people have finished their meals and moved on to mingling and dancing, the empty tables began vanishing into thin air with a large _pop_ about twenty minutes earlier. Every so often, the sound will be made again, alerting those near enough to hear it that another group of attendees has vacated their table. The dance floor holds the majority of the space now that the tables are mostly within their designated area. There are velvet ropes separating the two areas; Steve idly wonders if this is to protect the diners from energetic dancers (some of which have already nearly crashed through the ropes in question) or the dancers from the chaos of the dining area (with both patrons and servers bustling back and forth, it's still complete chaos).

Thor is seated on an elaborate throne at the front of the ballroom. He's spent a grand five minutes there the entire night, and Steve suspects he and Loki, who is seated beside him, are taking some time to observe the jubilance of their friends, loved ones, and fellow Asgardians. The two Asgardian princes, one of them now a king, look as happy as Steve has ever seen them. Steve is sure this has something to do with their friendship. Even Brunhilde, the Valkyrie who so bravely took a position in the very front of their charge on Thanos, seems to have noticed. Her and Thor were dancing earlier, but now she's taken a watchful position on the other side of the band. It looks like she's allowing the two brothers some time together; there's a serene smile on her face as she watches them laugh together. It's been a long time since Thor's smiled like that, they all know.

There's been a real change in Thor since Loki was brought back. He seems happier. Steve's always wondered what it would be like to have a brother. Watching Thor and Loki clink their glasses together in a toast, Steve realizes - not for the first time - that he really has found that in the other Avengers.

_ We've got a crazy big family, don't we? _ Steve muses to himself. He thinks this light-heartedly, but he knows that it's the truth. He wouldn't have it any other way.

Their crazy big family somehow ended up doing something cheesy with their clothes, which gives Steve a lighter feeling than he's had in a while. He's wearing an Avengers lapel pin, a lapel pin that looks like a tiny version of his shield, and on his other lapel, he's got a specially made pin of the New Asgard crest. All of his team mates are wearing some combination of the Asgardian crest (to support Thor, Loki, Brunhilde, and their people), the Avengers logo (for unity), and something that may or may not represent their role on the team - Thor's got a shiny hammer lapel pin next to the other two, attached to the top edge of his shirt; Tony's got an Iron Man mask with his Avengers and Asgard pins; Pepper's third pin is her initials; Peter and Harley have matching science pins, which Peter secretly opted for instead of a Spiderman pin, just so he and Harley could match; Bruce's third pin is a medical emblem that's been painted green; Rhodey and Sam both have pins in the shape of wings; Natasha has a spider and Clint has an arrow; Brunhilde has a tiny dagger; Loki's even wearing the three pins, and his third is a small replica of his golden horned helmet.

From Steve's seat at the bar, he has an easy view of Pepper and Tony, twirling about on the outskirts of the dance floor. A few feet away from them, Aunt May is trying to teach Morgan, Peter, Harley, and a blonde Asgardian girl to waltz. It looks like Rhodey has been roped into assisting with this, and being the model uncle that Rhodey is, there's a huge smile on his face. It looks like the four kids are picking up the steps with his and May's help. Not far away from them are Clint and Natasha, spinning and whirling around much faster than Steve could probably ever move. They did try to teach him the dance they're doing a while back, but the results were not even close to hopeful.

That's largely because the results involved a broken coffee table, but that's beside the point.

A flash of motion from above catches Steve's eye. He looks up to find Carol and Maria laughing and waving their hands around. It takes a second for Steve to realize that they're gesturing and mouthing, the both of them. He follows Carol's line of sigh back to Brunhilde, who's now smiling and shaking her head, though her eyes are very much fixed on where Thor and Loki are sitting. 

Steve doesn't know what the three of them are talking about - or, for that matter, _how_ they're talking, considering that Carol and Maria are probably at least sixty feet above them, and while they're all supposed to be carrying extra comms for the evening, they're only supposed to be used in case of emergency - but it doesn't matter a second later. Brunhilde looks back up at Carol and Maria, giving them a cheeky grin. When she lifts her left hand in a vulgar gesture, one which Steve is sure she learned from Barton, Steve looks back up to find that the two of them are looking at each other the way that Clint and Natasha do, their conversation with Brunhilde apparently forgotten. 

For the record, the two of them and Brunhilde are in charge of security for the evening, and they're too focused to let something like that 

A smirk works its way onto Steve's face. He looks back to Brunhilde and takes a swig of his whiskey. Realizing that Steve is looking at her, she rolls her eyes comically and groans, "Love birds." Steve can't actually hear her, given the throng of people between them and the roaring music of the band, but the exasperation on her face is telling enough. 

With a final roll of her eyes, Brunhilde peels off the wall she's been leaned up against for the past half-hour. Elegantly slipping through the crowd, she makes her way towards where Aunt May and Rhodey have finally gotten all four of their students moving in the right direction. Morgan is dancing with Peter, and Harley is dancing with the Asgardian girl. Harley and his dance partner are sporting matching shades of pink on their cheeks. Steve resists the urge to laugh as Brunhilde stops short, notices the awkward way Harley and his new friend are still managing to dance without looking at one another at all. Their movements are tenser than they'd been a few minutes ago.

Shaking her head in what appears to be disbelief, Brunhilde looks over at Steve and lifts her shoulders in a shrug. Her hand is clenched in a fist by her side. That's better than doing what Steve imagines Brunhilde is thinking about with it - the look on her face says she's making good use of her self-control. The hilt of her blade is only a few inches from her curled-up fingers, after all, and shoving it between Harley and his new friend wouldn't be very polite. Biting back a smile of his own, Steve lifts his drink and raises an eyebrow. Throws back the rest of his glass to appropriately finish off his one-sided toast. Brunhilde rolls her eyes and steps up to May's side.

Steve can't hear their conversation over the roaring music - Asgardian music is certainly fun and full of energy, but it is also very _loud_; Steve is actually wondering if the musicians' instruments have been enchanted somehow - but not more than sixty seconds pass before May is nodding, extricating herself from Rhodey's arms, and walking away. Brunhilde offers a hand to Rhodey and twists to shout something to the girl Harley's dancing with. The girl's eyes light up and she grins in response. Her head bobs up and down enthusiastically, and Brunhilde returns her smile as she begins to instruct Rhodey, Peter, Morgan, and Harley in what looks to be an Asgardian dance.

"Captain Rogers," a voice says from his left.

There's a slosh and then a clink, and when Steve looks up, his drink is full again. It's just whiskey, stocked specially for the attendees who can't handle the Asgardian beverages, and Steve's had a few glasses. He's still not feeling funny at all, thanks to the super-soldier serum. It's probably not good for him, but he isn't the mood for anything else.

The bartender has already moved on to refill another drink by the time Steve goes to thank him. He's a wizened-looking man, his hair and beard graying with age, his bright eyes promising a lifetime of stories and a quick wit. Probably a bartender one of the Starks knows, given those things. Tony's philosophy is that every bartender should be full of near-unbelievable tales and lightning-fast retorts. It would make sense, too, because last time Steve checked, the palace wasn't quite staffed all the way. The man also lacks the accent most of the Asgardians have. Instead, as he calls to another man working in the kitchen behind the bar - this is the bar where extra snacks can be ordered, all free of charge, though both the tip jar and the jar labelled "Donate to Asgardians in Need" have had to be emptied and replaced several times already - he has a deep southern drawl. Steve's never been to the southern part of the U.S., and he's only heard the accent in movies, so he can't further specify where the bartender might be from.

_ I should probably take a trip through there one of these days, _ Steve thinks to himself. He takes a sip of his whiskey. _Being Captain America and all, it would make sense for me to have been to other parts of America. _

The bartender and the people rushing around in the kitchen behind him are all wearing the same uniform. It's different than the white shirts and black vests and slacks the dinner servers are wearing, different than the black-tie clothing being worn at the other bar, and Steve wonders how many restaurants and catering businesses Pepper and Tony got involved in putting together the ball. It couldn't have been an easy feat to get so many companies to pitch in. Still, it looks like several have sent teams all the way to Norway and, by all indications, have done so knowing that they would only be receiving tips in payment. This part doesn't surprise Steve one bit - the Starks can be rather convincing when they want to be.

A tap on Steve's shoulder pulls him from his analysis of the celebration's planning.

Steve looks behind him to find May waving at him. "What can I do for you, Aunt May?"

It might sound a little weird, Captain America calling someone his aunt like this, but Aunt May is technically older than him. And the first thing she did when her and Peter moved into the Avengers Tower was announce that everyone could call her Aunt May if they wanted - they'd all taken to being uncles and aunts and even a father, in Tony's case, to her boy, and she wanted to be there for them however she could. She had also added that they didn't have to, that she was perfectly fine being everyone's best friend, even if that meant being the mom-friend.

Steve could use an aunt, though. The fact that he's halfway through his fifth drink, sitting alone at the bar in a ballroom full of nice people, including almost all of the people that he loves... He could definitely use an aunt.

May just smiles and shakes her head. She gets the bartender's attention, orders herself a drink, and situates herself on the barstool next to Steve's while she waits.

His ma would've liked Aunt May, Steve knows. The two of them would've been the best of friends. It hurts less and less now, remembering his ma, and Steve's thinking that has something to do with not feeling so alone in the new world. Everything has been different since the Decimation. No matter how much love and family Steve's found in his fellow Avengers, he's still got some gaping holes inside of him. One of them is _parents_ \- he never really got to know his father, but he's used to having a motherly figure in his life. Aunt May isn't even close to being his ma, but she's the kind of person who looks after people who need it, and it makes him feel better to have that. She provides some much-needed adult supervision to their team, even though most of them are almost her age and some are a bit older.

The bartender gives May a nice smile as he delivers her drink. She returns it, drops some cash into both the tip and donation jars. Takes a few sips before turning to Steve and asking, "Why are you drinking alone? At what Pepper has assured me is the biggest party of our lives?"

So that's what Brunhilde was doing - sending May to either check up on him or lecture him or both. Steve glances over to where she and the younger girl are still instructing Peter, Harley, Morgan, and Rhodey. Brunhilde smirks in Steve's direction as Rhodey spins her around.

Both a lecture and a checking-up-on, then.

"I'm just enjoying myself," Steve explains. His voice stays steady the entire time. At the increased volume required to shout over the music, this is a real achievement. "Watching the people I love have fun."

The glare this gets out of May is as sharp as Brunhilde's sword and probably just as lethal. She takes a drink, eyes narrowed, maybe thinking about what she wants to say to that. Finally, she comes up with this: "You're miserable, Steve. In this ballroom full of happy people, full of people that love you for who you are, you're miserable."

Steve can't bring himself to argue. Aunt May isn't entirely wrong. Instead of trying to debate the finer points of his misery, Steve takes a drink. May takes this as a concession.

"What's making you so miserable?"

_ Nothing_, Steve wants to say. The word is right there on the tip of his tongue, not shoved away by the alcohol that used to knock him off his feet. It would be so easy to lie, so easy to brush the whole damn thing off and say that it's perfectly fine -

"I lost someone." The words are out before he can stop them. He doesn't offer any further explanation, just staring down at the polished mahogany his arms and his glass are resting on. It's awful, but it's weirdly nice to say it. To tell the truth instead of lying about how he feels. To be honest. As if he wants to make the feeling stronger, he repeats himself slowly. "I lost someone."

Aunt May's eyebrows nearly fly into her hairline. Steve doesn't turn to look at her directly, but her eyes are glued to the side of his face. She sips on her drink as she observes him. This time, she's definitely arranging a response in her head. May has devoted her life to working with those who suffered because of the Decimation and the fight against Thanos and its aftermath - there's no way she doesn't have a knee-jerk response to this.

But it isn't the _We've all lost someone_ that Steve is expecting. It would be perfectly true. Most of the people in this ballroom have lost everything. The Asgardians lost their home and had to rebuild it from scratch in an entirely new place. Steve can't imagine that. There are plenty of people here who lost loved ones and friends and got them back after the Decimation. There are plenty of people who died in the fight against Thanos after the Decimation and aren't here to celebrate the finishing of New Asgard.

"Who?"

The question takes Steve aback. _Everyone in this ballroom has lost someone_, he knows. _Why does it matter?_

In the suit that Tony and Pepper had tailored for him, Steve almost feels like a completely different person. It's almost easy to ignore his past, to pretend it never happened, to pretend like he's always been someone else. There's nothing connecting him to who he used to be. Well, kind of - the sole exception to this is the shield pin on his lapel. Steve didn't want to wear it, but Morgan found the pin, and she'd been so excited when she gave it to him that he just couldn't say no.

That wasn't the only reason, Steve is sure, even if he won't admit it to himself. He doesn't want to think about it. Thinking about it means thinking about how much Captain America merchandise Bucky wanted to buy after the war, thinking about how little newfound awe Bucky had had for Captain America but how detailed Bucky was in his wanting t-shirts, buttons, posters, toys that were really for children. Bucky hadn't cared who they were for - he'd been so sure they'd be collectibles one day. Their way-past-lights-out musings have been bouncing around Steve's skull ever since Morgan presented him with the lapel pin, which she'd tried to wrap herself (in red, white, and blue wrapping paper), and it suddenly feels much heavier than it really is.

Steve could snap it in half with his fingers, yet it feels like it weighs enough to drag him to the ground.

Aunt May is waiting on a response, though. Her question isn't the kind that Steve can sidestep - not a "Do you want to talk about it?" or something else Steve could've easily circumvented, but a "I _know_ you need to talk about it, and I'm going to sit here until you do."

It isn't that Steve doesn't _want_ to - he wants to talk about it, about Bucky, about the way his heart squeezes and his chest tightens every time he thinks about Bucky, more than anything.

This is the problem: this is the future, a future with entire celebrations centered around diversity and the kind of technological innovation that was never even imagined before S.H.I.E.L.D. dug Steve out of the ice and thrust him into this strange new world. Everything is bright and flashy and loud. Not in a bad way, just in a way that's so very different than what he grew up with.

Steve is sitting in a room with people from different _worlds_, plural, and Bucky isn't here to enjoy it. Bucky, who dragged him to the Stark Expo, who said they were going to the future.

Steve is living in the future. They're all living in the future.

Bucky isn't here to see any of it. This world has moved way past flying cars - they've done time travel and stopped full-scale invasions of the Earth and protected the universe from monsters like Thanos, and Bucky isn't here to see any of it. That's what really hurts. Steve just wanted to do his part. Bucky had real dreams, and Bucky's the one that suffered the most. Steve never managed to find him after Bucky dragged him from the river, saving his life.

_ I never got to thank him for that. _

That's the thought that does it - it jars loose the memories and emotions that Steve's been holding back, that he's been desperately trying to hide from his team mates, and he knows full-well that the whiskey has no bearing on his immediate decision to spill every secret he has to Aunt May.

Taking a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling and focusing on something that isn't the sudden roaring in his ears, Steve finishes off his drink. He doesn't know where he should start, but a voice hisses in the back of his mind - _the beginning_.

What's the beginning of their story? When Steve's ancestors migrated to the U.S.? When Steve and Bucky first ran into one another on the school playground? Steve doesn't have a clue, so he starts where he thinks he ought to.

"His name was Bucky."

* * *

This plan of theirs better go off without a hitch.

There's at least a million things that could go wrong, and they've got the happiness of one of their friends, their brother, one of their leaders, riding on the slim chance that they pull it off.

At first, there was some concern - and, Sam will admit, there still is - that Steve will freeze up or do something equally un-Captain-America like. While Steve probably won't lose his shit at the celebration for New Asgard, Sam knows what grief looks like, and sometimes, people express it or take it out on others in a way they don't mean to. Even with all the things that could go wrong considered - many of which the whole group knows, because Pepper wrote her list out on a huge dry-erase board during one of their strategy meetings - Sam knows they're doing what needs to be done. Steve is Sam's best friend. Sam can see that he hasn't been the same since they lost track of Bucky after the helicarrier battle, and he knows better than anyone that, sometimes, tough love can be the right answer.

It's most certainly going to piss Steve off, this little plan they've put together. But every time Sam thinks about his best friend being angry with him for it, that thought is quickly blocked out by the video Natasha had had JARVIS play for everyone when she was trying to get them on board. The whole thing was black and white. Clearly, it was from the forties, maybe propaganda footage or something from during the war. Steve is dressed in his Captain America gear, every bit America's golden boy, and Barnes is standing beside him. Steve's grin is nothing but bright white teeth. Sam has never seen Steve smile like that, not when he first met him, not when they won any one of the fights they've been in as a team, not when they reversed the Decimation. Not when they saved the universe from Thanos. Not when everyone was told that Tony would be okay, not when Clint pulled some desperately stupid shit and found a way to bring Natasha back.

It may not be fair to have expected Steve to be all smiles after Clint brought Natasha back, because of the obvious risks that were involved, and Steve tries to be the responsible one whenever humanly possible. Still, the other times for great celebration - stopping invasions of Earth, saving people, protecting the universe - didn't seem to bring Steve any kind of peace. Sam is willing to bet that he knows why, too.

That's the whole reason any of them went along with Natasha's crazy-ass plan. Steve's been so miserable. The universe has been saved - this is the time to celebrate the beauties and joys of life, and Steve just seems to get more sullen and quiet every day. When Natasha finally broke six months before the ball, got the nine of them together, including herself and Sam, Brunhilde, Clint, Pepper, Tony, Steven Strange, Rhodey, and Loki, and announced that she had a solution, they were all ears.

Only Brunhilde and Loki hadn't argued with Natasha. Clint had cocked his head to the side and asked if she was sure it was polite to poke around in Steve's business like that, and after Natasha admitted that she wanted to find Barnes too, for personal reasons, Clint had just nodded his head and got on board. Pepper's concerns were more about what could go wrong if their plan went sideways. There was a list several columns long on that dry-erase board by the time they were done with their second meeting for a reason - if they were doing the damn thing, they were dealing with every possible problem they could have in advance.

Tony, Steven Strange, and Rhodey shared the same concern - was it safe to have Barnes around? There are children in the Tower now, and all three of them wanted to be sure that Barnes didn't present a danger to anyone. Tony was the one to raise the question, eyes locked on Natasha's and voice quiet. Though part of Sam was expecting Tony to be angry with Natasha because of Barnes' connection to his parents' murder, Tony was only worried about his kids and Clint's, who have been staying at the Tower every other week since he and his ex-wife split up.

Sam is proud of his teammates. They don't always see eye-to-eye on things, but they love one another, and they do what they can to help one another. That's what matters, he thinks, when it comes down to it.

When asked why they didn't argue with Natasha's plan, Brunhilde and Loki both simply shrugged. "We all know what it's like to lose someone in battle. I lost my entire team - my sisters, my family, my..." She'd looked down at her hands then, pausing, and finished a few seconds later, "my wife." After shaking her head, Brunhilde just sighed. "I know what kind of pain the Captain is in, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. If there's anything I can to do help someone else not go through what I went through, I'll do it."

It took almost three months to find Barnes. In the beginning, they weren't even sure if he was still alive. The group had had to check every single one of his known aliases and a few that Natasha said she remembered from the time that she'd known him. The very last name on the list was the one Barnes was using, and they were incredibly glad to find out that he was alive and living in an apartment complex in New Jersey. Two weeks later, they'd managed to track him down in person. Sam and Tony went together, wanting to make sure that they could trust him, and found that Barnes had made a life for himself in the state's capitol city.

The look on Barnes' face when he opened the door was somewhere between shock and _who-the-hell-are-you?_. "I know you from somewhere," he said, looking back and forth between the two of them. A beat passed, and then there was a slightly more personable look on his face. "You're Avengers, aren't you?"

By the time that Sam and Tony had left to head back to the Tower, Tony had offered Barnes a spot on the team, and Barnes had made them both promise to call him Bucky. "That's my name," he'd said with a smile. "Bucky Barnes."

It's still amazing how much progress Bucky's made on his own, Sam thinks. He saved Steve's life, dragging him out of the river, and then he just up and disappeared, but there's no telling how hard it must've been for him to spend nearly five years on his own. That doesn't count the time following the Decimation, when both Bucky and Sam and a bunch of other people just vanished into thin air, but it's still five years. Sam doesn't know if he could've done that in Bucky's shoes.

The look on Bucky's face when Sam and Tony explained the master plan to him is still banging around on the inside of Sam's skull. Sam is beginning to agree that this is more than a reunion between old friends or brothers - Brunhilde's words echo in his mind from time to time, and Sam knows what it's like to grieve a brother. What Steve's been doing just isn't the same thing. The look in Bucky's eyes when they talked to him about Steve, the hope in his voice... Sam is nearly positive that there are greater forces at work here then just brotherly love.

Either way, it isn't his circus. In a few minutes, Bucky will be here, and whatever kind of reunion the two super-soldiers need to have, they will have each other to deal with it. Hopefully, at some point, though, they'll find time to sort out their feelings. There's definitely something going on between the two of them.

Not that that's any of Sam's business.

* * *

For the record, Natasha is fully aware that this is not her most brilliant idea.

It could go wrong at least three dozen different ways, and those are just the ones that Pepper came up with when Natasha shared her idea with some of the others. Tony took some convincing, but the look in Pepper's eyes, even as she told Natasha all of the reasons why it was a bad idea, said enough - stupid a plan as it is, it's got to be done, and what better tool to keep there from being an absolute scene than a closed-off ballroom full of high-profile invitees and the people of New Asgard? Beyond that, the corridor outside the ballroom is still crawling with reporters and flashing cameras. They may not have been allowed into the ballroom itself, but that isn't stopping them from trying to get pictures of the guests and cover the event itself. 

"He's not here yet," Sam says over comms. It may seem a little too much, but Tony made the decision to go all out a few weeks ago, and they ended up setting up a comms link for themselves before they left for the ball. "I'm going to freeze my wings off."

Beside Natasha, Clint snickers, and she can't stifle her own laugh. On the other ends of the link, Pepper, Tony, Rhodey, Steven, Loki, and Brunhilde are laughing as well. Sam would normally say something more like "I'm going to freeze my ass off", but per Pepper's request, the whole team has tried to cut back on swearing since Morgan was born.

Sam ignores the laughter at his expense, still equal parts business and exasperation. "Are you _sure_ he's coming?"

Clint rolls his eyes. He brushes the fingers of his free hand over his forehead like he's getting a headache, tightens his other arm around Natasha's waist. "He'll be here if Nat says he'll be here."

While Natasha would normally not appreciate being answered for like that, Clint has never doubted her plan once. He's supported her this whole time, because he knows what it means to her. They're doing this for Steve, but Natasha came up with the whole thing for a reason, and it's because both Steve and - her mind stumbles over what to call him now that they're living in this strange new world, because Steve calls him Bucky when supplied with enough Asgardian wine to loosen his lips, but his first name is James, and everyone else (mostly because they do not know him personally) calls him Barnes - she finally settles on the word "him" because she doesn't know what else to do - him have been like older brothers to her. Steve's been there for her since the Avengers were formed; he's looked after her and helped her and given her the shoulder to lean on that she's needed. But before all of that, before she even worked for S.H.I.E.L.D., before she escaped... Barnes trained her, taught her personally, before she escaped, and she's spent most of her adult life wondering if there was a way to free him, too.

He taught her to fight. To take care of herself. But she remembers him teaching her how to wrap her hands, how to fix her own armor, how to get information. He taught her words in other languages and told her about the places he'd gone on for other missions. And when their handlers had decided that they were getting too close, they'd made her watch them wipe his memory and shove him in a poorly built cryo-chamber.

No matter how hard she tries, she's never been able to get that image out of her head.

Natasha doesn't exactly know who made the call to force James - this seems to be the most familiar name she can come up with when it comes to him; is this what she called him back then? - back into cryo, but she knows it was about splitting them up. Relationships were forbidden in that hell, especially romantic ones, but her and James were never like that. He was like a big brother to her. When she'd heard that they were suspected of fraternizing in other ways, she'd been so thrown off by it that she hadn't known what to do.

And she knows why they believed there was something romantic between her and James, even if it makes so little sense to her. It was one of her first missions. She got tangled up in a fight with some of the building's guards, and there wasn't a good way for her to get out. James' orders were clear - _go back to base immediately, leave the others behind if necessary_ \- and she knows because she saw them scribbled in the mission file he'd been reading from the morning before. But James disregarded the instruction and turned back to save her. They both got out. She was grazed by a bullet, maybe, but she was alive.

It was enough of a concern for their handlers that they decided to split them up. What was between them wasn't romantic. The thought is still laughable to Natasha, especially considering the reason that she came up with this plan in the first place. But even if they weren't romantically involved, James ignored direct orders and went to save her, and those above them refused to see it as anything more than relationship-fueled insubordination. They hadn't really cared what kind of relationship it was, Natasha's come to realize. There's more than one way to love someone, and she knows perfectly well that both loving someone like a sibling and being in love with someone are threats to those who demand that kind of loyalty.

Clint spins her around. He's obviously trying to get her out of her own head, because there are some memories that don't need reminiscing. Natasha goes up on her toes even in her heels, twisting around under Clint's arm and letting him spin her the other way. He dips her right as the music ends. The people around them, Asgardians, fellow Avengers, and other invitees alike, applaud.

Smiling, Natasha stretches up and presses her lips against Clint's. Another round of applause follows.

"Why are the two of you making out on the job?" Rhodey chuckles over their comms link. Natasha lets Clint lift her back to her feet, twisting in his arms to stick her tongue out at Rhodey, who's still trying to get the hang of the footwork for the traditional Asgardian dance Brunhilde's teaching him and the three kids.

The band begins the next song. Clint shakes his head and counters, raising his voice to be heard over the rising volume of the music, "Why aren't you paying attention to your dance instructor?"

Brunhilde throws her head back and roars with laughter. When she recovers, she wastes no time moving on to the next set of dance instructions, pointing and gesturing to her own dance partner, Harley, and Peter, who's doing his best to keep up with his little sister standing on his toes.

The next few minutes go by faster than Natasha wants them to. She's still full of energy, despite being nearly an hour and a half into the celebration. Dancing with Clint is like floating on air - she's always loved him, maybe, but it wasn't until after the Decimation that they found their way to one another in a romantic sense. Even then, there was a war to fight and win, and every moment felt like their last. This is the first time she's felt so free since that little restaurant the team ate in after the Battle of New York, right after the Avengers were created, back when it was just the six of them.

They've all grown so much, haven't they? Their team is bigger, their family is huge, but they're all together now. They're happy. They love one another. No one is alone or fending for themselves, and they've built a home out of Avengers Tower - it's loud and chaotic and crazy, but they have monthly movie nights and weekly team dinners, and Natasha is so full of love and hope that most days, she feels like she could burst.

This is normally where someone would crash through the front gate and demand to speak to the King of New Asgard, or where something would go horribly wrong and all of the security personnel would suddenly turn on the guests, or where the other shoe would drop and the Avengers' last stand for Earth just wasn't enough. Natasha's spent her whole life waiting for the next mission, the next opportunity, the next objective, the next disaster that their team has to deal with.

But all that happens is this: they finish the song, doing some combination of an old-school dance that Coulson taught them and something they learned from Pepper and Tony. As the music crescendos and then hits a few high notes before stopping altogether, Clint picks her up and spins her around. He manages to set her back on her feet just as the music finally stops. Around them, everyone erupts with cheers for the band, but Natasha only has eyes for her partner.

She throws her arms around his neck and buries her face in his neck. There's loud yells and applause and whoops from every side of them. The rest of the ballroom is well and truly letting go in order to celebrate the completion of New Asgard, but Natasha's hanging on to what she's got - the love of her life in her arms, the family around her, the friends she's made along the way - for dear life.

She knows it isn't really possible, but if everything could be just like this for a little while longer, she would love every second of it.

* * *

Sam might be playing the cynic, just because he's worried, but he's always known that Bucky will show up one way or another.

Granted, he's not expecting him to just _walk out of the Norwegian woods_, but, hey, it's the effort that counts, right? And, Sam guesses, there probably wasn't much sense in renting a limo that wouldn't be able to get all the way up here (see: the part about the Norwegian woods), or in renting a car that a super-soldier who's missed seventy-something-years' worth of innovation probably wouldn't know how to drive.

Bucky soundlessly steps through the tree line almost two hours after the ball gets going. He's not exactly right on time, but they did tell him to arrive a little late so they could make sure Steve would be able to deal with it. It isn't like the ball will be over soon, either - Sam's learned a lot about the Asgardian's in the past few years, and one of those things is that they love a good time. This party won't be over until dawn at the earliest.

Sam's eyebrows nearly fly into his hairline as Bucky crosses the distance between the edge of the forest and the back porch. He really is all by himself - just stepped out of the damn woods all alone well after dark in the coldest damn weather that Sam has ever experienced. _Is he crazy?_ Sam asks himself. Bucky is walking slowly, like he's got all the time in the world, and Sam wonders if he might be nervous. He certainly doesn't look nervous, though there's still four or five yards between them.

When Bucky gets to the steps that lead to the porch, Sam opens the glass door he's been leaning against. A wave of ice-cold wind smacks into him and nearly knocks him on his ass. Luckily, there's no one around to see but Bucky. No one else is supposed to come through here this evening, thanks to Brunhilde.

The wind is bitter. The cold feels like it's settling into Sam's bones, like he'll never be able to get warm again, and it feels like a million years before Bucky finally steps through the doorway. He's not even shivering or anything. Fighting the urge to roll his eyes - of course, these super-soldiers aren't affected by the cold, _of course_ \- Sam all but slams the door shut right behind Bucky.

Eyes easily the size of saucers and mouth open to form a round O, Bucky takes in the room around him. There's a certain feeling of magic in the air. Steve told Sam that's normal - apparently, when Steve went to Asgard a few years ago, everything felt like that - and that it doesn't affect the Asgardians in the same way. Some of it, Sam knows, are protective wards meant to keep undesired persons from getting into the palace; there are more wards around the boundary of the territory, but Steven Strange and Loki and Wanda put these wards around the palace to add some extra security for the ball. In some places, it feels like moving through chest-high water, but in others, the magic just gives everything a light and airy feeling. It's not so strong in the ballroom itself because the magic is concentrated around the edge of the palace. But here, so close to the magical wards themselves, it's already made Sam feel a little lightheaded.

The room they're standing in is rather impressive all on its own. Floor-to-ceiling windows make up the wall closest to Sam and Bucky. Between the windows and the glass door, all without a single smudge or imperfection, they have a perfect view of the field outside and the forest beyond it. Instead of grass, the field is covered in what must be several inches of snow. There might still be grass underneath, but Sam doesn't know enough about the climate of the region that became New Asgard to be sure. He makes a mental note to ask JARVIS about it when they get back to their rooms for the evening.

Each of the rooms in this part of the palace seem to have been decorated with a theme in mind. This room, maybe intended to be a functional lounge, where there was a good view of the scenery and plenty of places to curl up and read or watch TV, has a very rustic cabin-in-the-woods vibe. There's a huge fireplace centered against the wall on the opposite side of the room. It hasn't been put into use because there's not going to be anyone in here to keep an eye on it after Sam and Bucky leave, but Sam is going to have to find time to watch a movie in here before everyone heads back to New York, just so that he can test it out.

There's a set of large, comfortable-looking couches situated on a rug in the center of the room. Unlike the stiff, high-backed furniture Sam had expected it to be when he got here earlier, he sat on one to find that they're nothing of the sort; covered in tasteful throw pillows and blankets, and being so homey, it's obvious that the decorator tried to make it a warm and inviting sitting area. The sofas form a rectangle with only three sides, kind of, in front of the fireplace. On the wooden coffee table in the center of the couches sits a vase of fresh flowers. There's soft, tinkling music coming from somewhere, and Sam isn't sure if it's magic, an ambient speaker of some kind, or drifting in from the ballroom. On the walls, there are carefully placed photographs and decorations, including a quote in what must be the Asgardian language. On either side of the window-wall, there are huge curtains that have been tucked into holders so they're out of the way. Above the fireplace is a huge flat screen TV, that, like most of the tech in New Asgard, is sporting a Stark Industries logo.

After Tony recovered from injuries he sustained in the first battle with Thanos, Tony and Pepper opened up a new research and development portion of Stark Industries. The new department specializes in TVs and cellphones and laptops and dozens of other staples of modern technology, and jobs were given to those who had lost homes or family members or had otherwise suffered as a result of the Decimation and, later, the Battle of Earth. A percentage of every purchase went to the Stark Relief Foundation, which has been working to help people recover from the insanity of the past few years. Sam wasn't there to see the company grow like that, being a victim of the Decimation himself, but he knows he would've been proud of Tony's efforts had he been there to watch. Because everything sold by Stark Industries comes with the Tony Stark stamp of approval, and all his tech is so well-developed, it didn't take long for Stark Industries to rise through the ranks of the recovering market. It doesn't hurt that so much of the money spent on the tech is going to the Stark Relief Foundation - it's an easy way for people to take care of themselves while also giving to a good cause. The whole thing is doing so well that Tony and Pepper have been considering partnering it with the September Foundation, too, so that they can help supply technology and funding to education systems that have suffered severe losses and hardships.

One of the first things Tony did - and, again, Sam wasn't there to see it, but Brunhilde explained all of it to him when he asked - with the new technology was make a deal with New Asgard. It wasn't economically beneficial for Stark Industries, Brunhilde was sure to point out, but it allowed the people of New Asgard the supplies they needed to get to work on their new home. After the Decimation was reversed and the Battle of Earth was over and done with, and Tony had recovered, he hired more people that needed new jobs and set up a Stark Industries office in New Asgard. This did a lot of good for their economy, from what Sam understands.

Sam is proud of Tony. It isn't about the money for him, all that he's done for New Asgard, for the world, since the Decimation. Tony did what he did for New Asgard for Thor, for their friends, and for the Asgardian people who had lost so much. He created initiatives to help the world recover in a way that he can actively contribute to because it was the right thing to do.

Tony also did a lot for Bucky and Steve, which is obvious in the full tuxedo that Bucky is wearing. It fits perfectly - Tony sent a tailor to Bucky's apartment two months or so ago, and told said tailor to send the bill for the suit to Tony no matter what - from the velvet bow tie down to what Sam recognizes as shiny black dress shoes that must've been picked out by Tony. Thanks to a shave, a haircut, and his standing up a little straighter, Bucky looks a bit more like he did in the pictures that Steve and Natasha have shown Sam. There's still a marked difference between those pictures and the Bucky standing in front of Sam, though - Bucky's kept his hair long enough that it touches his shoulders, and if Bucky moves the right way, light glints off the fingers of his metal arm.

"How's the arm working out for you?" Sam asks, hoping it's a sufficient way to start a conversation.

Bucky twists the arm in question around a bit, flexes his fingers. Shrugs. "Tony knows what he's doing. It's a lot easier to use." He glances down at his hand, moves his wrist in a circle. "The old one hurt a lot, sometimes. This one doesn't ever give me that kind of trouble."

Sam grins. "That's fantastic. And hey, you know that if it ever does, Tony will - "

"Move Heaven and Earth to see what he can do about it," Bucky cuts in, a smile on his face, "he's already assured me." Bucky chuckles and shakes his head. He sounds completely at ease, seems sure of himself in a way that he didn't a few months ago, the first time Tony and Sam went to Trenton to chat with him.

When Bucky's eyes meet Sam's, though, they betray the nervousness he's clearly working so hard to hide.

Raising an eyebrow, Sam gets straight to the point. He tries to keep his tone jovial. It probably doesn't work. "Are you sure you're up for this?"

"I - " Bucky starts, then cuts himself off. He sighs, dragging a hand down his face, and then nods his head vigorously. "I've been waiting three and a half years for this, Sam." His gaze breaks from Sam's and trails around the room as he thinks. When he continues, his voice has the kind of particularly impassioned tone that Steve has told Sam about. "I don't think there's a way to be ready. I'm not going to be any more ready in ten years or twenty years than I am right now, you know?"

Sam nods. He fights the urge to make a quip about Spartacus-level inspirational speeches, instead reminding himself of the little information Steve has shared with him about his and Bucky's teenage years. _Bucky's always had a way with words_, Steve's voice echoes in his mind. This is what he told Sam about a year ago, after a bottle and a half of Asgardian liquor, and the look in his eyes was one of the reasons Sam agreed to this crazy-ass plan of Natasha's at all. _No matter what he was doing - if it was a girl, or a group of bratty kids, or a bully, or anything else, Bucky always knew what to say._

"For the record, I think Steve misses you more than I can possibly put into words." Sam knows that this sentence is phrased carefully, with the specific intention of not giving away his personal opinion on just _how_ Steve misses Bucky. He does not want to voice his theory and be wrong. That would be _bad_. When the corners of Bucky's mouth twist up, Sam shrugs and says, "He's my best friend. I know what happy looks like, and I know what _not_ happy looks like."

There's a look in Bucky's eyes that still screams 'not convinced', even though he's got a half-smile on his face. Sam looks around the room like someone is going to jump out of the storage closet a few feet away. This gets a laugh out of Bucky. Seeing that his attempt to distract Bucky is working, Sam leans closer and whispers conspiratorially, "Besides, I'm _never_ wrong."

Bucky blinks at him for a second before it sinks in and he doubles over laughing. Sam does, too, more amused by the force of his reaction than anything else. Like Steve, Bucky has a contagious laugh, and though Sam knows his joke wasn't really that funny, he can't help but laugh, too.

When Bucky and Sam both recover from their laughter, Bucky glances around the room again. "Doesn't this ever feel kind of... surreal to you?"

"Yeah, it does." Sam knows exactly what he means. They're standing in the palace of New Asgard, where their friend, the king of Asgard, lives with his brother and second in command. Sam is an Avenger, and Bucky will probably be one before the evening is over, whether he likes it or not. He's certainly going to be a part of their humongous family, full of other Avengers, and a couple of children who refer to anyone who isn't their parent or sibling as their aunt or uncle. The whole thing is kind of mind-boggling if he thinks about it for too long. A much younger Sam never would've seen himself here. Never would've believed that he could have this, too. "But it is our crazy and adventure-filled life, and I make a point to enjoy every moment of it."

Bucky nods. He looks like he's going to say something, but then snaps his mouth shut at the last second.

Sam's comms buzz as Tony, not bothering with any greeting, asks, "Is he here yet?"

Nodding a bit even though Tony and the others can't see him, Sam flashes Bucky a smile and replies into the tiny mic on his jacket. "Yeah. Elvis is in the building, ladies, gentlemen, Valkyrie."

Sam doesn't bother keeping his face void of his expression as the other members of his group go back and forth over comms. He must be making weird faces, because this just keeps getting more bizarre, but Bucky's laughing. Sam would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying himself. Everything about this is crazy, but they're a team, and he loves them.

"I believe you're forgetting 'Prince of Asgard', Sam," Clint teases.

Loki snickers. Sam isn't sure how he knows it's him. "I will have you know," Loki begins, obviously overexaggerating the pompous note in his voice, "that I am up to my neck in courtiers asking me about Thor and Brunhilde, and she's just _left_ me here - "

"Would you like me to tell the pretty ladies who want to marry your brother that he's spoken for, Loki?" There's a teasing note in Brunhilde's voice, but she doesn't argue the point. Sam fights the urge to bang his head against the wall - _more people? getting together? from our group?_ Sam would very much like to focus on one at a time, for the sake of everyone's mental stability - as Loki lets out a sigh that just says, 'long suffering brother'. Brunhilde changes the subject without giving Loki time to snark back at her. "Sam, are you going to bring the Captain's dear friend in here or do I need to do that for you?"

Narrowing his eyes at a mic on his shirt feels immature, so Sam goes for rolling them instead. Bucky covers his grin with his flesh hand. Sam replies to Brunhilde with as little of his own long suffering sigh as he can manage. "We're headed your way now."

"Don't forget to give him the pin," Tony orders. Pepper chimes in with something about making sure Bucky's still feeling good about seeing Steve, which Sam promises her he's already done, and Tony adds, "Make sure he still looks presentable. Steven mentioned something about him taking a traipse through the Norwegian wilderness."

Tony's statement is punctuated with a hum that can only come from Pepper and still sound like a cross between "I can't believe he would do that" and "What if he gets pneumonia?". As for Tony's part, Sam thinks that he sounds more worried than he'd be comfortable with Sam pointing out. 

Sam assures them he's got everything under control, and there's a _whoosh_ as the link fizzles out. Tony probably just disconnected it for the time being so that Sam can take care of the next part of their plan. Reaching into one of his jacket pockets, Sam fishes out the spare Avengers lapel pin that Tony gave him. He's wearing one of his own, and it had been Pepper's idea to get Bucky one - "Even if he doesn't want to be an official Avenger, he's still more than welcome to move into the Tower, and he'll be part of our family. We should show him that we mean business." Pepper's definition of "showing Bucky that we mean business" was really just the gesture, but Sam is still hopeful that Bucky will see the gift for what it is.

"This is from all of us," Sam explains. He holds out the pin. It's shiny and bright red, just a capital 'A' with the same tail as their official logo. It's the same exact one they're all wearing. But it's meant to be an extension of what makes all of them family. "We want you to have one."

Bucky blinks a few times. He sees the one on Sam's lapel. There's no doubt that he's made the connection. "I can't - "

"You most certainly can," Sam interrupts. His tone leaves no room for argument. "Steve's family is our family, and this was Pepper's idea." Bucky's talked to Pepper on the phone, Sam knows, and the look in Bucky's eyes at her name is perfectly telling. Sam snorts. "Exactly. You do not argue with Pepper Stark."

Cocking his head to the side, Bucky exhales through his nose. He pauses for a few more seconds and then whispers, "Thank you." His voice is thick with emotion. He reaches for the pin and fixes it to his lapel himself. His eyes are glued to the pin when he repeats himself. "Thanks."

"That's what friends are for, Bucky." Sam lets out a big breath and then nods. Without really thinking about it, he reaches over and straightens Bucky's lapel pin with a smile. "It's time to get moving. Are you sure you're - ?"

Bucky throws one of his arms around Sam's shoulders and hauls him forward. They make it through the door near the fireplace and then into a relatively empty hallway. They pass the stairs before Bucky answers the question. "I am as ready as I will ever be."

Sam raises his eyebrows. He points over his shoulder, at the staircase behind them. "Good. Maybe that means you want to, um, go upstairs, you know, where the entrance to the ballroom is?"

* * *

By the time Steve has spilled his guts to Aunt May, he realizes that it actually feels better to be honest with himself.

He's been in love with Bucky since they were sixteen and a half, and watching him fall from that train destroyed him. Steve woke up in 2011, seventy years later and farther away from Bucky than he'd ever been, and he hadn't had a clue how to live in the new world without him.

Aunt May orders a pair of sodas. Just before the bartender turns around to get them, May adds a large order of French fries and asks for plenty of ketchup. To Steve, who's looking at her with raised eyebrows, she says, "You need to eat."

"I'm fine, Aunt May," Steve argues. He waves his hand like he's going to physically brush off the concern. "It's not a big deal. Alcohol doesn't affect me."

With narrowed eyes and her mouth set in a firm line, Aunt May is clearly unconvinced. She moves her index finger in a circle, gesturing to her face. "Does this look like the face of a person who cares if you can get drunk or not?" When Steve shakes his head, she folds her hands on the bar in front of them. "I'm glad we agree. Even if you can't get drunk, that doesn't mean your liver isn't currently screaming for help."

Steve nods. There's no good sense in arguing with her. She'll win either way, and there's even less sense in pissing her off in the process.

"Besides, if you can't get drunk, what's the point in drowning your sorrows anyway?" There's the slightest slur to her words, and Steve is suddenly wishing he remembered how many rounds they've ordered since she sat down with him.

May is still sober enough to decide that they need to switch to something else, though, and she has a point - Steve shouldn't be trying to drink his problems away at all, even if he can't really get drunk. He should be looking to take his mind off things in a more healthy way, or looking to cope with them in a way that involves no alcohol at all - so Steve doesn't let himself feel more than a pang of guilt for forgetting the difference in their metabolisms. He's been working on paying more attention to that so that no one gets themselves roaringly drunk without meaning to. She might have been trying to keep up with him. It doesn't seem likely, but the atmosphere of the gala is a very different one than they're used to, so he doesn't altogether dismiss the possibility. 

Clearly, Steve's plan to pay closer attention isn't working, but he'll deal with it when they go back to New York.

"So, just let me make sure I'm still with you," May says when their sodas are delivered. It's Coca-Cola, and it doesn't taste the same as it used to - just another thing that's changed in this strange new world - but Steve thinks it tastes better. May guzzles down at least half an inch of the soda in her glass before she keeps going. "You and your best friend were in love something like eighty years ago, and you thought he was dead, and then you nearly died on the plane with the Tesseract, and then you woke up here in 2011, and then, like, three years later, you found out that he was alive, and he pulled you out of a river after nearly killing you in a fight, and then disappeared."

Steve takes a drink and nods. His chest has been tight ever since that day on the bridge, just like something is sitting on top of him, constantly weighing him down, so he doesn't feel it get any worse at the way May explains it. "That's about the size of it." His voice sounds disturbingly strangled, but he ignores it.

The fries are delivered. The bartender's assistant gives Steve and May a nice smile, and Steve drops another bill in the tip jar once she turns to refill someone's drink.

They dig into their fries slowly, eating in silence. May dunks every single one of her fries into ketchup. It's not an awkward silence - it almost reminds Steve of eating with his ma, nearly ninety years ago.

"Do you wanna know what I think?" Aunt May finally breaks the silence, voice less slurred and eyes still perfectly focused. She's pointing the ketchup-covered end of a fry at Steve like she's thinking about wagging her index finger in his face. Steve's seen Pepper do the same thing with a pen on more than one occasion.

"Sure."

May pops the fry into her mouth. Tilts her head back and forth while she chews, like she's thinking. A few more seconds go by and she says, "I think you need to be happy. No matter what. I know how you feel - " she scrunches up her face, shrugs, and gives him a half-smile - "well, kind of, I guess. Me and Ben didn't have a story nearly so dramatic, but I've been without him since Peter was a kid. Ben was the love of my life. I've learned to live without him, but there's not really a moving-on in my future." She pauses to take a sip of her drink, drag the back of her hand across the lower half of her face. "I don't know if that's how you feel about Bucky, but if it is, I understand that you may not be able to get over him like that. Still..." She shakes her head, looks down, looks up at him again. She reaches forward and covers one of his hands with her own. "You deserve to be happy. You're here, and you deserve to live your life."

Steve knows that May is right. It's probably worse that he knows how right she is, because he needs to find a way to live his life. He needs to be happy. He needs to live in this world, in this time, and he needs to be happy. He remembers holding those Pym Particles in his hands, knowing that they could take him back to the 1940s or any time he wished. He'd thought about going back to Peggy; he could've lived out the rest of his life with her, or at least near her, but they were never in love, and Steve knows that she would be beyond livid if he did that. He'd thought about going back to the night that Tony's parents were killed and finding a way to stop the Winter Soldier, to get his Bucky back, but there was no guarantee that that would've worked. The only possible solution he'd come up with was staying in the present, living out his life, doing his best to find some happiness of his own.

But that's proved to be more difficult than he'd imagined it would be. Every part of him wants to go look for Bucky, find whatever answers he can dig up, because he knows it'll be easier if knows the truth. Bucky could be dead, Bucky could be completely gone - if he'd died in the Decimation, then he would've been brought back with everyone else, but there's plenty of other things that could've gone wrong since Bucky left Steve on the side of that river. If Hydra had somehow caught up to him, if he'd been taken out by them or taken back by them... Steve's been doing his damnedest not to think about everything that could've happened to Bucky somehow, but sometimes it slips into his mind, and imagined horrors and tragedies get so wrapped up with the real ones that Steve can't always get rid of them on his own.

Even if Bucky is still alive, there's no guarantee that he'll want to see Steve. Steve looked for him for a bit after he was discharged from the hospital, but by the time that Steve had gotten any real leads, Bucky was already long gone. If Steve finds him now, there's no guarantee that Bucky will want to have anything to do with Steve. Or the Avengers. Or any of them. What they'd had before, in the past, it may not hold any water next to the events of the past few years. Steve's made plenty of mistakes, hasn't he? More than enough, surely, to make Bucky slam the door in his face, if Steve's even able to find him at all. Steve doesn't know if he'd want to see himself, in Bucky's shoes, after everything that's happened.

These two things aren't sufficient reasons not to go look for Bucky, Steve knows. What's stopping him is nothing more than fear and guilt and more fear, and if he had a lick of sense at all, he'd put those things aside and go find himself the truth. But he's afraid of finding out that he really, truly missed his chance with Bucky, and that he'll never see him again, or that he missed his chance with Bucky, and Bucky never wants to see him again.

Steve needs to be happy. He didn't go through all he's gone through, fight tooth and nail for everything he's ever had, just so that he could waste away once all the work was done. He has a huge, loving, amazing family, and every one of them would go the distance for him. He has a home. He has a purpose and a life and a place. He wants to be happy about as much as he wants anything else in the world.

Bucky was his person, just like Ben was Aunt May's person, and Steve doesn't think he'll be able to move on from Bucky in the sense that he could find someone else to share his life with. It's hard for Steve not to feel like he's gotten his heart ripped out of his chest time after time. But he wants to be happy. He really, really wants to be happy.

He looks up, hopes to whoever's listening that there's a way for him to be happy. Some way, somehow, maybe there's another miracle waiting for him somewhere out there.

* * *

After Sam gets them going in the right direction, it doesn't take long to find their way to the ballroom.

For the record, Bucky isn't entirely sure that Sam knows how to get there. They definitely go in a circle at least once, but Sam gets them to the main corridor, and it isn't long before they can hear the crowd and the music. They follow the sound towards what Bucky really hopes is the ballroom. Sure enough, a few minutes later, they find a large room with an incredibly high ceiling and a huge, sparkling chandelier in the center. There's a set of red carpets stretched across the room. One of them comes from the hallway they enter the room from, stretching across to the other side of the chamber, where another hallway tapers off and then turns to the left. The second carpet goes from the double doors on the right side of the room and intersects the horizontal one at a ninety-degree angle. The intersection isn't quite in the center of the room. Beyond it, though, the carpet from the double doors goes up the stairs and stops at what can only be the entrance to the ballroom.

The stairs are full of people from top to bottom. There's a few people standing at the base of the stairs, waiting on their turn to start heading up. At the top, there's a platform a few feet wide. The man standing on it has to be wearing Asgardian armor - nothing Earthly glitters that way or shines that way under the light. The man is tall, his long hair is tied back in a ponytail, his beard reaches his chest, and he's got a sword at his waist. Next to him is couple from Earth. It's pretty obvious that they're not Asgardians, at least, because they're staring at the man's armor like it's something out of a movie. The Asgardian man is holding a piece of paper, probably checking their invitation to the ball. They're clearly married, the couple, even though Bucky can only see their backs - both women are wearing wedding rings, and one of them has her arm around her partner's waist.

If Bucky keeps his shit together for the next half hour, he might have that, too.

This is what Bucky knows: at some point, before the war, before everything went to hell, there was something _more_ between him and Steve.

Bucky's been to the museum. Bucky's seen that sign that says they were best friends their entire lives. But Bucky remembers so much more than that, too - memories that don't at all line up with being "best friends".

He remembers sleeping next to a smaller Steve, doing his best to keep Steve from freezing to death in the middle of December, holding Steve as close as he could. He remembers going off to the war and somehow just knowing he would never make it back home, and when things were bad, he would think of the nights he spent sprawled across the couch with Steve. He remembers waking up next to Steve and neither of them moving until they absolutely had to. He remembers taking care of Steve, tiny and coughing and shivering with fever, and knowing that if Steve didn't pull through like he always did, then Bucky wouldn't have a clue what to do with himself.

After nearly six years on his own, Bucky's stopped wondering if he's ever going to get all of his memories back. He's built a new life for himself in Trenton - he's got an apartment in a nice building, a job at a law firm answering the phones and helping with research, which pays pretty well, and some friends of his own. He volunteers at the homeless shelter that he landed at right after he fled from New York. His plan back then had been to keep moving, but he couldn't imagine going so far away from Steve, even though he hadn't had a clue why. The manager of the shelter set him up with a therapist before Bucky got his own apartment, and he's never missed an appointment, not once in five and a half years.

Bucky has a best friend, too. Her name is Maria, and she's nearly seventy years old; Bucky spends most of his free time sitting on her couch and watching daytime talk shows with her. Steve has done several of them over the years, and Bucky's pretty sure that Maria's got a handle on the fact that the Steve on those TV shows is the Steve that he's told her about, just because of the look on his face whenever Steve is on TV.

It probably didn't help his luck that, one day, Steve decided to talk about Bucky on TV, but that's beside the point.

The talk show host had been asking invasive questions about Steve's personal life. The wording was meant to sound harmless, but it was pretty obvious what the host was getting at. She'd wanted to know about the other people in his life. Even in the thirties, that was code for,_ So? Are you seeing anyone? Are you single?_

"I am very lucky to have so many amazing people in my life," was all Steve would say at first. "The Avengers are my team. They're my family." 

The audience had roared with applause. A chant of "Avengers! Avengers! Avengers!" had broken out within the studio. 

That was not the response that the host had wanted from Steve, however. Beside Bucky, curled up with a mug of steaming hot coffee, Maria had huffed huffed. Bucky had been too busy thanking anyone who was listening - God, the universe, whatever stars he'd remembered to wish on - that Steve was actually happy to say anything in response. 

But when the crowd finally quieted down, the host was ready with a follow-up question. There was a polite smile on her face, but curiosity was burning in her eyes. "So there's no significant other in your life?" The question was paired with a raise of her eyebrows so telling that it would've been impossible to misunderstand the question. When Steve just shook his head, she'd scrunched up her face and leaned forward. "What about before now? What about the people in your life before the Battle of New York?"

Bucky had never felt the urge to fly through a TV and give someone a piece of his mind before that - not even when he watched _The Bachelor_ with Maria, which should say something - but there's a first time for everything. Even now, he can still feel the rush of confusion and anger coming over him. It had felt like being run into by a train. It was obvious what the host had been getting at: Steve's life _before_. 

Not just before the Battle of New York, but also before S.H.I.E.L.D. pulled him out of the ice.

Maria had looked over at Bucky then, eyebrows raised. His shoulders had tensed up and he was fisting his hands into the blanket he'd been covering up with. He'd just shaken his head and muttered something about crazy journalists, but his insides had been all kinds of twisted up. As much as he couldn't believe she would ask a question like that, there'd been a second part of Bucky that couldn't figure out whether or not he wanted Steve to answer that question. _How_ he wanted Steve to answer that question. 

"Well," Steve had started, thoughtfully tilting his head to the side, "everybody's got a best friend, right?"

The woman, who had frozen mid-reaching for her drink, just nodded and raised her eyebrows, apparently too confused to formulate a response.

Steve, ever the saint, had started talking again before the host could even put the words together. "My best friend was a guy named Bucky. You probably know that if you've seen the Captain America exhibit at the Smithsonian, but if you don't, here's the size of it" - Steve had paused there to give a charming smile and clear his throat, and when he'd started speaking again, his voice had a weirdly posh note to it - "Bucky and I were freakishly inseparable as children and it continues to baffle everyone, because Bucky was a ladies' man, and I was, well" - then he'd lost the fake accent on a laugh and doesn't bother getting it back - "today, you would say that I was a nerd."

The show had cut to commercial then, after the host had made a polite comment about how she couldn't imagine that, and Maria had proceeded to lose her shit. Eyebrows raised and eyes wide, she'd said, "I didn't know you knew Captain America."

"He wasn't Captain America when I first knew him," had been Bucky's only response. He'd stayed staring straight ahead at the TV. His voice had been softer than he'd meant for it to be, and Maria had more than caught it.

Over the mug of coffee in her hands, Maria had mused, "If you care for each other so much, I wonder why you aren't with one another. Why you're so far apart when it seems you care such a great deal for one another." Bucky'd muttered some bullshit about a falling out, but Maria hadn't bought it. "I see the look on your face when you talk about him, you know. And that look in his eyes when he talked about you just now. I might be an old woman whose eyes are bad, young man, but I've never not been able to see with my heart."

Three days after that conversation, Tony Stark and Sam Wilson had shown up on Bucky's doorstep. They'd told him that Steve was miserable and that Bucky was the answer, and even though Bucky hadn't bought that one either, the thought of Steve being miserable and Bucky not even trying to help... It hurt more than the alternative of slamming the door in the face of an opportunity to have Steve in his life. He'd begrudgingly agreed. Somehow, their master plan involved an Asgardian ball and a full tuxedo and Tony fixing his metal arm (the Hydra agents hadn't ever taken great care of it, and at some point, Tony had rolled his eyes and produced a new, fully-functioning Stark Industries model), though Bucky still suspects that was more of an olive branch than a requirement of their plan.

And now Bucky is here, standing in line to get into the ballroom of the palace of New Asgard. Waiting to see his best friend - his something else? He doesn't know what to call Steve, because Maria had used the words "love of your life" and the museum had used the words "best friends" and Bucky remembers laughing with Steve, fingers laced together, but also pressing his mouth to Steve's in their shoebox of an apartment; there's not a good enough word, Bucky thinks, to explain all of that away - and hopefully find that he is as welcome in Steve's life as Tony and Sam have assured him he will be.

Bucky's therapist told him he needs to do this if he feels like it's something he needs to do. "You know what you want in your life," she explained a few months ago. "If you want Steve in your life, then you need to talk to him. If you want answers" - here, she'd been referencing the memories that he didn't know how to make sense of - "then you need to talk to him."

Bucky wants Steve in his life. Bucky wants answers. He's here. He walked the walk and he got dressed in the fancy suit that Tony had made for him, and he got on the plane, and he met Dr. Steven Strange at the airport in Norway and went through a portal to get here.

He made it. He's here.

It isn't like Bucky hasn't been this close to Steve in eighty years. He has. On the bridge. On the helicarrier. Various times that Steve has gotten too close to finding him. Bucky's seen Steve on TV, too, in both taped interviews and pictures, and Bucky knows that Steve has been through some absolutely bonkers bullshit with the Avengers. So it's obvious to Bucky that his sudden nervousness - the dryness of his mouth, the weight on his chest, the way he feels like the rest of his life depends on the next few minutes - is not so much from the prospect of being near Steve, but rather what Steve's reaction to that might be.

This is what Bucky does not want: to have come all the way here to be told off by Steve. For Steve to say that he does not want Bucky in his life. That he has moved on too much and no longer wants anything to do with Bucky.

"You know it's a possibility," Bucky's therapist told him. "Are you prepared for that if it's the case?"

The answer was a resounding _no_, but part of Bucky knows that's okay. He needs to do this, needs to see if there's a chance. He needs to be here. _What's the alternative?_ He's asked himself that question a million times since Tony and Sam showed up at his apartment - what happens if he never goes? What happens if he never lets himself find out? What happens if he never even tries?

The alternative is this: spending the rest of his life not knowing. Not knowing because it's easier that way, not knowing because he doesn't think he could live with whatever heartbreak he might find in knowing the truth. Not knowing how Steve feels about him, but knowing Steve is somewhere out there. Knowing that he could go find Steve whenever he wants and knowing he never will. Bucky does not want to break his own heart by finding out that Steve doesn't miss him, doesn't spend hours on end wondering what the hell he should do about the whole mess, doesn't want to see him. But even as much as he doesn't want those things, Bucky does not want to live out the rest of his life without the truth. Bucky doesn't want to lose himself to speculation. To what might have been. What might've happened in the past. What the future might've looked like if he'd done something differently.

Bucky wants the truth. If the truth is something he doesn't like or something that hurts him, he'll have to live with that. Because the truth could be so much better than whatever he's been imagining, and he'll never know if he doesn't take the risk.

This is what Bucky is afraid of: realizing he's more in love with his memories than with Steve, that his feelings did not withstand the test of time and distance and the aforementioned bonkers bullshit that's happened to the world in the last several years.

That's one of those other things that could go wrong. One of them is another point his therapist made - what if Bucky has convinced himself of something based on memories that aren't right? What if Bucky has created this story out of fragments of memories that don't fit together?

_ You know perfectly well there's only one way to find out _ , he chides himself. _Would you rather live the rest of your life stuck on this, or, even if that is the case and you're wrong, know what the reality of it is so that you can get a grip and deal with it? _

Bucky knows what he wants. He's here because he's already made that choice. He wants to know the truth. He can figure out whatever he needs to after he has it, but first, he wants answers. Hydra has taken so much from him - what's the point in letting them have the truth, too? What's the point in letting fears created by what they did to him keep him from what he wants? From his happiness?

This is what his therapist would say: _There isn't any good sense in that. _

Before Bucky realizes it, he and Sam are halfway up the stairs. The guard at the double doors is still checking invitations. It's going a little faster now, and Bucky is starting to feel like he's got a long-coming date with destiny. Sam reaches into his jacket and pulls out a cream-colored envelope.

When Sam catches Bucky looking at the envelope, he passes it to Bucky and quietly explains, "We really don't need one. The Avengers pins are also a security thing - if there's some kind of disturbance, it's our job to help out, so the pins were kind of so we could move around without having to pull out our invitations at every door check."

"So why are we waiting in this line?" Bucky's tone is dry. He lifts the corners of his mouth to show that he's really kidding. "When we have all-access passes."

Sam's eyes widen comically. He wags his index finger in Bucky's face, looking every bit the responsible parent. "We only use our powers for _good_, Bucky."

Resisting the urge to tease Sam about his and Tony's use of the Avengers' powers to find Bucky and show up at his apartment, Bucky shrugs it off. "If you say so."

Because his mind is absolutely restless between worrying about himself and worrying about Steve and everything that could go wrong in between, Bucky realizes there's one very important thing he hasn't thought of. _What am I going to say to him?_ "Hi, I know it's been a while, but - " Bucky cuts off the thought before it finishes, already cringing at the words themselves. He really _doesn't_ know what to say. All the times he's imagined the moment... It's never gone well in his head, and he has no clue what to lead with or what to say if doesn't go completely up in smoke from the jump.

He's so used to knowing what to say. Of course it's Steve that throws that off, too. 

In all the movies he's watched, the people doing this try to be funny or clever or do something wild. But Bucky didn't bring any flowers - it would probably just cause a scene more than anything else, and that is _not_ the idea - or plan any dramatic firework shows, so he'll have to find a suitable phrase. Nothing too long - no sudden dramatic speeches. Nothing disgustingly sweet. Nothing he'll have to awkwardly repeat.

His therapist would say: "What do you _want_ to sound like?" It would be reasonable, too, because this is what she does when he only lists off what he doesn't want. So he asks himself the question, making a mental note to tell her that he's picking up on this trick and it's working, and plays through some examples in his mind.

Bucky decides on being clever - this is obnoxious, mostly because the timing will be difficult, but he doesn't have any other ideas, so he'll go with it for the moment - and tries to come up with a real line. His memories say he used to be good at this, and he's not half-bad at it now, just a little out of practice. He closes his eyes and breathes for a second, then remembers this:

_ "Are you promising everyone a dance when the war's over, Rogers?" _

_ It's Bucky's voice, giving Steve a hard time - Steve's promised Peggy a dance, but Peggy is one of the few people who really knows about the two of them, and Bucky knows it's a friendly thing. Steve looks at her like a sister. A best friend. That's how Bucky looks at her, too; Steve's just really gotten into dancing now that he knows how, and he'll dance with anyone who'll have him, even if he spends most of the time looking over at Bucky while he's twisting and turning around on the dance floor. Bucky doesn't fault him for it - he loves it, so he might as well, right? And it isn't Steve's fault that dancing isn't so much Bucky's thing unless it's with Steve, and it isn't quite like they can just dance anywhere. Not with the way things are. _

_ Steve's laughing. His eyes are teasing. "Just the pretty ones." _

_ Bucky and Dum Dum, who are walking with them after a long briefing, roar with laughter. Dum Dum claps them both on the shoulder and says something about heading to a restaurant or dance hall himself. Bucky and Steve land back in their quarters a few minutes later and move around one another in the peaceful silence of long-in-love people as they get ready to turn in for the night. _

_ "Would you like a dance when we get home, Buck?" Steve asks an hour or so later. The lights are already out and they're sleeping on separate cots, but Bucky can hear it in his voice - it's not sarcasm. There's no teasing in his tone. _

_ There's not an ounce of hesitation in Bucky's voice when he says that, yes, he very much would. _

But Bucky never got that dance, did he? Neither did Steve. Bucky fell from the train, and Steve was in the ice, and the last time they saw each other was nearly a fight to the death. Bucky smiles wryly, and he suddenly knows exactly what to say. _That's perfect,_ he thinks to himself.

Beside him, Sam is probably looking at Bucky like he's really lost it this time, but mercifully, Sam doesn't say anything about the expression on Bucky's face.

In front of them, the line is moving steadily up the stairs and into the ballroom. It appears that the guy working the door has fallen into some kind of rhythm. When they finally get to the door, it feels like barely any time has gone by. Sam passes the Asgardian man the invitation, but all he does is glance down over it.

"Thank you, Sam," the man grins as he hands back the envelope. "Thank you for all that you've done for our people."

Sam gives a bright smile and shrugs it off, clapping the man on the shoulder. "None of that, man. It's all in a day's work."

Once they step into the ballroom, Sam waves off the announcer, and they slip away from the door pretty much unnoticed. A strange wave of calm has settled over Bucky by this point. His eyes automatically start scanning the crowd for Steve, but Bucky doesn't see him.

The ballroom is humongous, probably the biggest place Bucky's ever been in (that he can remember, anyway). The ceiling is high and there are several ornate chandeliers hanging from it, spaced out from one another to distribute the light around the room. There are windows high-up, but they're hidden behind small curtains. The room is filled with people, some dancing, some eating at tables on the other end of the room, some standing around the edges with champagne flutes or beers. There are bars on either side of the room, too, serving what must be a mix of Asgardian and Earthly food and drink. Some of the ball's guests are decked out in Asgardian armor - probably dress uniforms of some kind - and others are wearing suits or dresses that are similar to red-carpet fashion, but are markedly Asgardian, given the way they shimmer with magic. There are models and movie stars here, too, looking every bit the part, even though they're easy to spot in the Asgardian ballroom.

Everyone is so happy. It's loud, louder than anything Bucky's ever heard, but it's also beautiful - the music is amazing, and everyone is talking and laughing and smiling and so _happy_.

"Anybody have eyes on Cap?" Sam asks, drawing Bucky's attention from their surroundings. Bucky glances over at him, wondering who he's talking to, and then remembers the comms unit that Sam was using earlier. Sure enough, Sam's tilting his head to put his mouth closer to what looks like a tiny microphone attached to his lapel. "Me and Bucky are in the ballroom."

There's a pause, and then Sam nods, head twisting to look at the bar on one side of the massive chamber. "Yeah, yeah, I see him." Another pause, and then Sam smiles. He looks over at Bucky. "Valkyrie and Rhodey want you to know that you look nice." Sam tilts his head to the side, listening to someone else on the other end of his comms unit. "And Pepper says, 'good luck'. Not that you need it."

Bucky nods. "Tell them I said thanks." Even as he speaks, his eyes are already drifting around the room, looking for Steve again. He finds the right direction, finally, after Sam points towards the bar to their right as if he can read Bucky's mind.

And there Steve is.

Bucky can't see his face, but Steve is dressed to the nines - probably Tony's tailor's handiwork, if Bucky has to guess - in a royal blue suit and what Bucky's sure are the same dark brown dress shoes that he himself is wearing. There's a woman sitting next to Steve, snacking on French fries and sipping a soda. When Bucky's stomach twists, it isn't with jealousy - he remembers what Steve looks like when he's happy, and the slump of his shoulders just isn't that. Steve reaches for a French fry and Bucky gets a glimpse of his profile. His stomach does the thing again because of the way Steve's face is scrunched up. He looks like he's in pain.

Heart clenching in his chest, there's a second where all Bucky can see is Steve. He's clearly upset, and if this is even close to what he's been like for however long it took for Sam and Tony and the others to go looking for Bucky - Bucky of all people, because they think he can help - then Bucky can't imagine turning around and leaving. He's got to help somehow. However he can. That knowledge washes over him like a wave, and for a fraction of a second, he knows it's going to work out okay.

And then he crashes back down to Earth. The knowledge that it'll be fine is still bouncing around in his head, but his nerves have returned in full, along with the remainder of his worries about all the ways this could go wrong. His stomach drops through the floor. Sam claps a hand on his shoulder like he's worried Bucky will turn and bolt for the door.

It's not an entirely unreasonable concern. Bucky's definitely considering the door to be a viable option.

He doesn't know what happened - two seconds ago, he'd been so sure, but now - seeing Steve had been like a balm to those nerves, but what if all of it's just in his head? What if he shouldn't really be here at all?

Sam disconnects his comms link again, turning his full attention on Bucky. "We wouldn't have come up with such an insane plan if we weren't sure it would work, you know."

"From what I understand, the Avengers specialize in insane," Bucky quips back. The nervous edge is still in his voice, even as he echoes something Tony'd told him a few weeks back.

"That may be true," Sam says, raising his eyebrows. "But our particular brand of insane hasn't failed us yet. You and Steve have a lot of history between you, and I get how that might seem daunting, especially just to go up to him in a room full of people." He stops to let that sink in for a second. As he thinks about what he's going to say next, his eyes drift to something over Bucky's shoulder. When Sam finishes studying whatever's gotten his attention, he looks back to Bucky and continues with his pep talk. "But you're here now, and I think that's because you want to be."

"Yeah."

"Well, I'm a big believer in doing things that scare you because you need to. Nothing great ever happens in your comfort zone. You've got to do what you need to do, man, but I think you and I both know what choice you're going to make."

Over the past few months, Bucky's learned a lot about Sam. He is a brilliant man of many talents. Also that he is an expert at counseling his friends because he's freakishly perceptive. He reminds Bucky a lot of Steve, and it's quite clear how Sam and Steve get along so well. Sometimes it's been weird, but this time, Bucky knows that Sam's making perfect sense.

Bucky exhales slowly. "You're right."

Sam gives him a wink that says he's well aware, and without another word, throws an arm around his shoulders and sets off for where Steve is sitting. Bucky keeps up with him easily. Dodging the ball's other attendees is probably the hardest part. 

_ It's now or never, _ Bucky tells himself as they near the bar. He can feel eyes on his back - the rest of the group of them, no doubt watching for Steve's reaction. Bucky can't bring himself to care - Sam will tell them not to stare or something in a minute. It probably is fair, though. They orchestrated this entire thing, after all, of course they're invested in the outcome. Anyway. _Now or never._ _No turning back_.

Suddenly, there's only a foot or so between Bucky and Steve, and Steve's attention is still locked on the empty glass in front of him. At first glance, it looks like his fingers, which are tapping out a rhythm on the table, are going along with the beat of the music the band's playing, but after a second, Bucky realizes it's an old song from when they were growing up. He can't remember what it's called or even if there were words, but a melody pops into his head, and he knows what he remembers it from -

_ It's the biggest party in the city, and obviously, Steve and Bucky weren't invited. But they can hear the music while they're eating dinner in their shoebox of an apartment. They've left the windows open for some fresh air, and Steve's already joking about how the two of them are getting a free concert. _

_ "D'you think we could ever dance to this kind of music?" Steve asks as he's cleaning off their dinner plates. "Like the people at the party must be?" _

_ Bucky's straightening up the living room. The apartment is tiny and there's not a wall separating the kitchen from the living room, just a waist-high countertop with the sink and some cabinets beneath it for storage, so Bucky just looks up at Steve and raises his eyebrows. "Would you want to?" _

_ The sink goes off before Steve replies. "Maybe." Bucky's not facing him now, messing with their raggedy curtains as he is, but he can imagine Steve leaning up against the countertop as he talks. Steve hums as he thinks. "I mean, it could be kind of fun." _

_ Slowly, like he's tasting the word, like he's not entirely sure what Steve means, Bucky repeats, "Fun?" _

_ "Yeah, it might be." Steve doesn't tease him for not being able to keep up, just walks around the counter and past the table and onto the rug that takes up most of the living room space. It'd been Steve's ma's, so they'd kept it when they'd moved into this place. "It could be." _

_ When Bucky turns around, it's to find Steve standing much closer than he'd realized, and his breath catches in his throat. He's never thought dancing was any fun, but... But it might be. It could be, maybe, with the right person. Bucky's taken plenty of nice girls dancing, and he's never really enjoyed it, but Steve is - well, Steve is _ different, _everything with Steve is_ different._ Things that most certainly shouldn't ever be fun are fun with Steve. Just because being with Steve is... Well, being with Steve is_ different.

_ A beat goes by. There's a lot of tension in the small space of their living room, Bucky notices, but he's still slowly swaying to the beat of the music coming in through the windows. It's louder now, somehow. Or maybe that's just the pounding of his heart in his chest. _

_ Steve reaches for Bucky at the same time that Bucky reaches for Steve. Bucky has to show him exactly how to stand and where to put his hands. Still, after a few minutes, they get the hang of it, the two of them. And Bucky realizes, not all that surprised, because it's about the same as nearly everything else, Steve is right - dancing can be fun. With the right person. _

The memory fades as quickly as it came a second before, and Bucky has a final epiphany: he is exactly where he's meant to be. Maybe he's more in love with his memories than the man sitting in front of him, maybe it's never worked with anyone else and it still won't work with Steve, but he owes it to the both of them to try. He'll never know if he doesn't.

Beside Bucky, Sam's looking at him with wide eyes and practically shouting at him with a glare. Bucky has known Sam long enough to know that it means something along the lines of "Do something, you moron!"

_ He's not wrong_, Bucky barks at himself. _Do it or get the hell out of here before he sees you._

So Bucky takes another deep breath and reaches forward. He taps on Steve's shoulder, waits until the blond turns around, watching the way his eyes widen as they swing up and down, giving Bucky a once-over. For his part, Bucky stays perfectly still, letting Steve absorb his presence, watching the shock in Steve's eyes turn to doubt, then uncertainty, then something between _What the hell?_ and_ Oh my word._ Steve's gaze lands on Sam after a second, and then there's clarity and understanding in Steve's eyes, and his mouth falls open like he's going to say something. Nothing comes out.

"Bucky," Steve finally breathes after several long minutes.

A grin breaks Bucky's face in half. That doesn't sound like someone who's unhappy to see him. As much as Bucky would like to stand here and bask in the moment, he's got a plan, and he's ready to get moving. "From what I understand, you owe me a dance, Rogers."

There's a stunned look on Steve's face for an entire minute. Steve gapes at Bucky so long that Bucky starts to wonder if he botched the line or it came out wrong or - worst of all - maybe the memory wasn't real or Steve doesn't remember it the same way or -

And then Steve doubles over laughing, half falling off the bar stool he's sitting on. The woman sitting next to him, Bucky, and Sam all three reach forward to keep him from falling to the floor. But Steve keeps it together and manages to catch himself, so Sam taps the woman's arm and they both take a few steps back. Sam guides her a few feet away, taking care to keep her from tripping when she nearly loses her balance.

Steve recovers from his laughter as soon as it's just the two of them. He looks at Bucky for a long minute, then stands up. He's still a little taller than Bucky. It feels as weird as it did when he'd noticed it, all the way back in the 40s. What doesn't feel weird is being here - right up close to Steve, the nerves that have weighed Bucky down for the last six months have vanished. Steve's smile is as good a distraction as any, and the way Steve's looking at Bucky makes him feel warm and light on his feet.

"So you've come to collect on this dance, then?" Steve speaks tentatively. Like he's afraid that the whole moment might break if he says the wrong thing.

"You bet your ass I have," Bucky replies, sure as stone. He gives Steve a grin of his own. The words come naturally - talking to Steve is as easy as breathing. "I've got a reputation to keep."

Chuckling, Steve holds out his hand. His face is suddenly serious. Bucky lifts his own hand - the flesh one; the metal arm may not be Hydra's, but he still doesn't know how Steve will feel about it, and he doesn't want to be wrong - and rests his fingers on top of Steve's.

They stand there until the song stops and the next one starts, and then Bucky finally finds the nerve to entwine his fingers with Steve's and lead him to the dance floor. On the other side of the bar, Sam gives a thumbs up that's probably meant for both of them.

The song finds the beginning of its chorus as Steve and Bucky start dancing. Steve was never very good at it, and Bucky's a little rusty, so it takes a few minutes. But they get the hang of it eventually, and when Steve lifts their arms to spin Bucky around, Bucky finds a smile on his face.

Bucky spins Steve around next. To both of their credit, when Steve nearly faceplants, they manage to keep themselves upright. Bucky catches Steve with his metal arm on reflex alone. Steve glances down at the metal limb wrapped around his waist, and Bucky jerks it away just as Steve reaches out to put his free hand on Bucky's half-flesh-half-vibranium shoulder.

"I'm so glad you're here," Steve breathes. "More than you could know."

It's not at all what Bucky was expecting. He has no idea what to say. But his mouth opens up anyway. When he says, "I'm really glad I'm here, too," he sounds just as breathless as Steve did a few seconds before.

This gets a smile out of Steve that should probably be arrested for stealing the sun's identity.

They spin around again. Bucky tries to twirl Steve for a second time. It doesn't go as badly as it did the first time, though there is definitely room for improvement. Lots of improvement.

"Look, I - " Bucky cuts himself off before he can mix up too much of all the things he wants to say. It takes a few minutes for him to get the words in the right order in his mind. By then, he and Steve have slowed to a steady sway on the dance floor. They're standing far enough away from the center that the dance lines and circles won't mow them down if they aren't paying close attention to where they're standing. "I know that we've been through a lot, and I understand if you want me to leave, but I had to see you."

Steve just shakes his head. His expression is a little dazed, but he shakes his head again and his eyes clear a bit. "I've been waiting my whole life to do this, Bucky. I've never wanted anything as much as I've wanted this moment."

And Bucky knows what he means. They used to talk about it, sometimes - what it would be like if they could go out in public, go on dates, go to parties and dance together. Not have to go on bogus double dates in order to go anywhere at all. They both wanted that. For themselves. For each other.

So it's true then. Bucky's memories were real.

But -

"What do you want, Bucky?"

Bucky doesn't know how else to answer the question. He leans forward just enough to see, just enough to gauge Steve's reaction, and part of him isn't at all surprised to find that kissing Steve is just as easy as breathing, too.

The whole ballroom is cheering when they pull apart, a fact which Bucky realizes a beat too late - his face has already had time to turn bright red, just like Steve's - that it's for the band, who's just finished another part of their set. The last of the clapping, though, has got to be the other Avengers, because Tony and Sam and the blonde woman between Tony and the other man (who Bucky recognizes as Pepper and Rhodey after he gets a good look at them) are all looking right at him and Steve.

Steve laughs in Bucky's ear. "Anything else you want, while you're at it?"

"You owe me another dance," Bucky grins. He leans up to press his mouth to Steve's again. "A good one, this time."

Face twisting up in mock-offense, Steve spins them around once again, getting into the beat of the next song as the band gets going once again. "Everything with me is good."

Steve may be kidding, but... Bucky gives him another kiss and tightens his arm around Steve's waist. "You're preaching to the choir."

By the time the song ends, Bucky's happier than he can ever remember himself being. He's finally gotten his dance. It took every bit of eighty years. But he's gotten his dance. 

He gets several more dances before the night ends. Enough that he knows it's true - dancing is fun, it's the best time of your life, it just takes the right person. The right people, maybe, because somehow he and Steve end up in a big circle of Avengers, and Bucky doesn't know most of them (yet), but he already feels right at home.

And that's what he's been looking for this whole time, isn't it? _Home_. The word echoes in his mind. He looks up at Steve to find bright blue eyes staring right into his soul, and he realizes that it's the most familiar thing he's been able to find since he ran out of New York so many years ago. 

Steve's different now, but so is Bucky, and they can find a way to make it work. 

Bucky leans in to kiss Steve again, and Steve laughs. The band goes from the tail end of one song and right into another.

Around Bucky, cheers erupt. And as he joins in, he's sure that, even if it took eighty years, this is exactly how it was meant to be.


End file.
